Nightraider

Nightraider was as vain as one could get. Though she led the life of a warrior, she longed to have been born better looking, so she could have gotten away with offering no more help than that of an encouraging smile and a life of pampering. It was too late in her life to think of those kinds of fancy; she had already gotten too battle-worn. Fights long past had all but etched into her body and altered the way she carried herself.

"Is that what you really care to have? Beauty over battle-wit?" came an amused voice. Nightraider was quick to arm herself; though she was smaller in size than her visitor, she was quicker than most and knowledgeable of quick ways to take down an adversary.

"What of it? Even from a witch that can read minds, what I want is beyond your power," she spoke, tone dismissive even as she tensed in wait. If the witch was to try something, she'd be ready. Spells took time; swords did not.

"I am no witch," and here her voice was so cold and sharp, Nightraider thought that, at that moment, even her swordsmanship wouldn't be enough to stop the infuriated being that stood in front of her. The moment passed as the tension all but dissipated with the passing breeze; she would give her answer.

"Prove it." She spoke and the otherworldly being smiled like she had been given a particularly interesting prize.
Months had passed since that meeting and she had gotten what she asked for. Her clanmates doted on her upon her return and random strangers showered her with gifts, enamored with her at first sight. Nightraider knew they saw something ethereal when they looked at her, just as she still saw her unchanged self in every reflection. Even as she was doubted in her fighting skills, she wouldn't take back her wish. If the need every arose, she could still defend herself and her clanmates all without breaking the illusion that took hold of every mind that glanced in her direction. Now, being underestimated wasn't all bad. There was a certain kind of thrill that rushed over her every time she proved another wrong in their assumption of her. In the heat of battle, it was usually their last impression as well, and that thought satisfied her immensely.